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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


PING-KUA,  A  GIRL  OF  CATHAY 


AT    THE    SHRINE    OF    THE    GODDESS 
TEMPLE    ON    THE    TOP    OF    TAI-SHAN,    THE    SACRED    MOUNTAIN 


SOUTH    WALL    AND    MOAT    OF    NING-YANG 


PING  KUA 

A  Girl  of  Cathay 


BY 


RACHEL  R.  BENN,  M.  D. 


publication  office 

woman's  foreign  missionary  society 

methodist  episcopal  church 

boston,  mass. 


Copyright,  1912,  hy 

fFoman*s  Foreign  Missionary  Society 

Methodist  Episcopal  Church 


BOSTON 
1912 


fc/ 


PING-KUA,   A    GIRL   OF   CATHAY 
By  Rachel  R.  Benn,  M.D. 

CHAPTER  I 

If  you  go  by  wheelbarrow  or  mule-litter 
across  country  from  the  Grand  Canal  of  China  at 
Chi-Ning  to  the  city  of  Ning-Yang,  as  you  draw 
near  to  the  old  willows  by  the  moat  you  will  see 
the  corner  and  south  side  of  the  city  wall,  gray  in 
the  evening  light. 

Following  the  road  around  to  the  west  you 
cross  the  moat  on  a  stone  bridge  and  enter  the 
city  through  a  great  arched  gateway  in  the  wall. 
Note  the  huge  iron-clad  gates.  They  open  in 
the  middle  and  swing  back  against  the  wall  each 
morning  and  swing  out  every  night  when  the 
drum  calls,  meeting  in  the  middle,  where  they  are 
securely  fastened  by  strong  bars  of  wood  which 
reach  away  across,  with  their  ends  fixed  in  holes 
at  either  side  of  the  arch. 

Just  inside  that  massive  gateway,  one  morning 
about  twenty  years  ago,  a  baby  was  born.  The 
mother  had  climbed  to  the  very  top  of  Tai-Shan 
where  the  Goddess  of  Babies  has  her  temple, 
knocked  her  head  many  times  before  her  shrine 
and,  while  clouds  of  incense  smoke  ascended,  had 


prayed  most  earnestly  for  a  son.  Then,  stealing 
one  of  the  boy-baby  images  from  the  shrine,  she  had 
carried  it  home  and  cared  for  it  as  if  it  were  a 
real  baby,  believing  the  goddess  would  be  pleased 
and  answer  her  prayer.  The  whole  family  had 
hoped  for  a  son,  for  girls  are  not  counted  as  chil- 
dren in  Chinese  heathen  homes.  It  was  because 
of  all  this  that  the  faces  of  grandmother  and 
mother-in-law  were  dark  with  frowns  and  the 
mother  wailed,  '^Wo-pu-yao-ti  hsia-jen" — which 
being  interpreted  means,  *'I  don't  want  a  slave." 
The  baby  was  a  girl. 

"You  bad,  wicked  woman,  whose  prayer  the 
goddess  would  not  hear,"  screamed  the  mother-in- 
law,  as  she  fell  to  beating  the  poor  mother,  whose 
disappointment  seemed  more  than  she  could  bear 
without  added  pain. 

"Your  own  ancestors  were  dogs,  or  you  would 
have  been  given  a  better  wife  for  your  son," 
shouted  the  grandmother;  and  the  father,  hearing 
the  uproar,  knew  he  had  been  scorned  by  the 
gods,  and  burst  into  the  room,  howling,  "De- 
graded daughter  of  foul  ancestors,  of  what  sin  are 
you  guilty  that  this  curse  is  upon  you.^  Throw 
the  little  devil  away.  I'll  not  be  laughed  at  as 
the  father  of  another  slave." 

In  the  midst  of  this  "domestic  cyclone,"  as 
Arthur  Smith  calls  it,  the  helpless  babe  was 
slipped  away  by  a  servant,  wrapped  in  a  long 
strip  of  blue  cloth,  its  feet  wound  around  and 


4 


arms  bound  in  close  to  either  side,  like  a  little 
mummy,  and  laid  on  a  warm  brick  bed  between 
two  small  bags  of  warm  sand.  There  it  slept 
peacefully  while  the  domestic  storm  raged. 

The  father  had  gone  stamping  out  to  the  court- 
yard, the  grandmother  and  mother-in-law  had 
screamed  themselves  hoarse,  and  the  mother  had 
threatened  to  commit  suicide,  before  any  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  the  innocent  cause  of  the  turmoil. 
Then  the  great-grandmother  went  and  looked 
down  upon  the  sleeping  babe.  It  was  so  cunning 
and  pretty  that  her  old  heart  was  touched  and  she 
resolved  that  live  it  should.  Then  she  began 
to  talk  peace,  urging  her  own  daughter-in-law  to 
listen  to  reason  and  soothing  the  distracted 
mother.  Finally,  seeking  the  father  in  the  outer 
court,  she  said,  "Grandson,  release  your  heart. 
Be  angry  no  more.  A  great  pity  it  is  that  a  son 
was  not  given  you,  but  this  ya-tou  is  very  pretty. 
I  already  see  in  her  a  beautiful  girl,  for  whom  you 
can  get  a  rich  husband,  whose  father  will  give 
you  many  strings  of  cash." 

In  the  Chinese  home  an  aged  one's  word  is  law, 
so  the  baby  was  neither  given  away,  sold,  nor 
killed,  but  lived  and  slept  and  stretched  its  little 
limbs,  growing  more  charming  every  day.  It  had 
such  a  bewitching  way  of  looking  up  into  their 
faces  with  its  large,  beautiful  eyes,  and  puckering 
up  its  dear  little  rosebud  of  a  mouth  as  if  trying 
to  talk,  that  in  spite  of  her  disappointment  the 


mother  could  not  help  loving  it,  and  even  the 
angry  father  took  to  carrying  it  around  buttoned 
into  the  bosom  of  his  upper  garment  and  laughing 
at  its  cunning  ways. 

When  the  baby  was  three  days  old,  they  pierced 
its  ears,  and  when  a  month  old  they  gave  a  feast. 
The  invited  relatives  came,  bringing  presents, 
and  with  much  ceremony  shaved  the  little  head, 
leaving  only  a  round  spot  on  each  side,  where  the 
silky  black  hair  was  not  cut  oflF. 

On  this  memorable  head-shaving  day,  great- 
grandmother  placed  on  baby's  neck  a  silver  chain, 
from  which  hung  a  curious  charm.  The  charm 
was  to  ward  ofif  the  evil  influence  of  the  twelve 
devils  that  are  supposed  to  haunt  each  Chinese 
child,  seeking  to  kill  it,  for  the  first  twelve  years 
of  its  life. 

As  a  rule,  the  girls  in  China  are  not  named. 
They  are  called  "  Ya-tou,''  i.e.,  female  slave,  but 
great-grandmother  insisted  on  this  one's  having  a 
name,  so  they  called  her  Ping-Kua,  which  means 
apple. 

Thus  shaven,  charmed,  named,  and  her  ears 
pierced  to  get  them  ready  for  the  betrothal  rings 
which  would  some  day  be  hers,  little  Apple  pro- 
ceeded to  grow  into  a  beautiful  child.  Everyone 
noticed  her  large  dark  eyes,  soft  black  hair,  and 
charming  ways,  and  remarked  to  her  family, 
"You  will  be  able  to  get  a  rich  mother-in-law  for 
your  Ya-tou.'' 


6 


Few  things  of  interest  escaped  the  quick  eyes 
and  ears  of  Ping-Kua,  and  there  was  something 
on  the  street  all  day  long.  She  could  hardly  take 
time  to  eat  for  watching  the  funeral  processions, 
the  wedding  presents  being  carried  so  all  could 
see  them,  the  peddlers,  and  the  official  chairs. 
Indeed,  she  often  ran  with  her  bowl  of  cabbage 
soup  and  rice  in  one  hand,  and  her  chopsticks  in 
the  other  and  ate  as  she  gazed. 

But  her  special  delight  was  the  long  caravan 
of  camels  carrying  great  bags  of  charcoal  on  their 
backs.  The  head  camel  wore  a  large  bell  hung 
on  his  neck,  which  sounded  with  each  step  he 
took,  and  carried  a  man  as  well  as  coal;  the  next 
was  fastened  to  the  leader's  tail  by  a  cord  passed 
through  a  hole  in  his  nose,  and  the  next  was  fas- 
tened to  his  tail  in  like  manner  till  there  were  ten 
or  twelve  in  a  line.  Ping-Kua  never  tired 
watching  them,  and  though  they  frightened  her 
horribly  when  they  turned  their  ugly  heads,  on 
their  crooked,  wobbly  necks,  and  looked  at  her 
with  their  accusing  eyes,  she  always  flew  to  the 
street,  when  the  "Dong,  dong,  dong,"of  a  camel 
bell  was  heard.  Sometimes  there  would  be  a 
baby  camel  tied  to  its  mother  and  then  Apple 
and  the  other  children  would  follow  at  a  safe 
distance  to  the  east  gate,  laughing  and  shouting 
at  its  long,  awkward  legs  and  woolly  head,  and 
the  way  it  crowded  close  to  its  mother,  being 
afraid.     "She  can't  help  it  if  anybody  goes  to 


hurt  it,  'cause  her  nose  is  tied  to  the  next  eamel's 
tail,"  remarked  one  of  the  boys,  as  they  followed 
one  day. 

"Yes,  she  can,"  retorted  Apple.  "I  once  saw 
one  kick  awful  with  her  hind  foot." 

One  day  when  little  Apple  was  about  five 
years  old  a  wonderful  thing  happened.  She  and 
the  neighbor  children  were  playing  in  the  alley. 
It  had  rained  the  night  before,  and  having  gath- 
ered some  of  the  soft  mud  from  the  street,  they  were 
squatted  on  their  heels  making  idols,  snakes,  and 
lizards  of  it,  when  suddenly  such  a  voice  as  our 
Uttle  girl  had  never  before  heard,  said  *^  Hsiao-hai- 
tzu-men-ni-tso  shummaf  i.e.,  "Little  children 
you  are  doing  what?"  Looking  up  Ping-Kua 
saw  right  by  her  side  the  strangest  being!  Her 
eyes  were  blue,  her  skin  white,  without  being 
powdered,  and  her  hair  was  yellow.  Without 
waiting  for  a  second  look,  Ping-Kua  sprang  to  her 
feet  and  ran  like  a  squirrel. 

"Come  back.  She  won't  hurt  you.  We 
know  her,"  called  one  of  the  older  girls,  and  look- 
ing back,  Ping-Kua  saw  them  talking  to  the 
creature  that  had  so  frightened  her.  Slowly  and 
doubtfully  she  returned,  but  kept  the  other 
children  between  her  and  the  stranger.  But  she 
soon  became  so  interested  in  what  the  white 
lady  was  doing  that  she  forgot  everything  else. 

Talking  in  their  own  language,  the  lady  said, 
"I,   too,   can   make  things   out   of   mud.     You 


8 


watch  me  and  see  for  yourselves."  As  she  talked, 
she  took  some  of  the  damp  earth,  rolled  it  into  a 
ball,  shaped  it  like  an  egg,  with  the  pointed 
end  a  little  sharper  than  an  egg  ought  to  be, 
and  then  as  the  children  bent  nearer  —  Ping-Kua 
with  the  rest  —  watching  with  all  their  might,  the 
deft  fingers  of  the  strange  being  with  blue  eyes, 
white  skin,  and  yellow  hair,  shaped  the  egg  into  a 
mouse.  Rolling  a  bit  of  the  clay  into  a  long  tail 
she  then  pinched  it  on  the  mouse  in  the  right 
place  and  held  up  before  their  delighted  eyes  a 
mouse  crouched  down,  with  its  tail  curled  around 
it,  eating  something.  Ping-Kua  danced  with 
delight,  and  forgetting  her  fear,  held  out  her 
hand,  and  the  lady  placed  the  mouse  on  her  palm, 
telling  her  that  she  might  keep  it.  Then  she 
told  them  how  in  her  home  land,  America,  little 
children  went  to  a  school  called  a  child  garden 
and  made  things  of  clay  in  a  beautiful  room,  in- 
stead of  on  the  dirty  street,  as  they  were  doing. 

As  Ping-Kua  stood  with  the  mouse  on  her 
hand,  after  the  lady  had  disappeared,  staring  at 
the  place  where  she  had  been,  one  of  the  children 
broke  the  spell  by  saying,  "It  was  a  foreign 
devil." 

"No,  it  wasn't,"  spoke  up  the  girl  who  had 
called  Ping-Kua  back.  "It  was  the  Jesus  doc- 
trine doctor.  She  comes  to  the  Jesus  Hall  and 
treats  the  sick.  My  mother  took  me  there  and 
the  doctor  cured  my  eyes." 


9 


Ping-Kua  ran  home  with  the  mouse  and  told  a 
marvelous  tale  of  a  wonderful  lady  who  made  and 
gave  it  to  her.  The  younger  women  listened  with 
the  curiosity  of  children,  but  not  so  the  great- 
grandmother.  To  her  the  white  lady  could  be 
no  other  than  a  demon  bent  on  mischief.  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  human  being  with  blue  eyes  and 
yellow  hair.f^  Who  could  tell  what  baneful  in- 
fluence had  been  worked  into  that  mouse  to  harm 
the  child  and  destroy  the  family?  Dismayed 
at  what  she  heard,  with  her  old  eyes  bulging  with 
fear,  she  struck  the  mouse  from  Apple's  hand, 
caught  it  up  with  the  tongs  and  drowned  it  in 
the  water  kang;  then  seizing  the  weeping  girl 
and  calling  the  other  two,  now  thoroughly  fright- 
ened, women  to  follow,  dragged  her  to  the  shrine 
of  the  Goddess  of  Mercy.  Prostrating  themselves, 
they  knocked  their  heads  many  times  on  the  floor, 
compelling  Apple  to  do  the  same.  Lighting  three 
sticks  of  incense,  which  she  stuck  in  the  incense 
burner,  great-grandmother  set  them  smoking 
before  the  goddess,  and  they  all  again  fell  to 
knocking  their  heads,  beseeching  the  goddess  to 
save  them  from  the  demon's  curse. 


10 


CHAPTER  II 

Six  years  of  freedom  brought  little  Apple  to 
her  sixth  birthday  and  the  beginning  of  bondage. 
On  that  fateful  day  great-grandmother  said  to 
grandmother,  "Daughter,  it  is  time  the  child's 
feet  were  bound.     She  is  six  years  old  to-day." 

**0h!  no!  no!  no!"  protested  Ping-Kua.  "Not 
for  a  year  yet.  Great  sister's  feet  were  not 
bound  till  she  was  seven." 

"Older  sister  being  so  plain,  there  is  no  hope 
of  a  rich  mother-in-law  for  her,  so  it  is  not  im- 
portant that  her  feet  be  so  very  small;  but  you 
are  beautiful  and  will  be  a  rich  man's  wife.  Come, 
come,  now !  See  these  embroidered  pointed  shoes 
your  mother  has  made  for  you.  Without  the 
bandages  you  cannot  wear  them." 

Bribed  by  the  pretty  shoes  and  some  cash, 
Ping-Kua  slowly  put  out  her  plump  little  foot. 
Grandmother  was  ready  with  a  strip  of  strong 
sheeting  an  inch  and  a  half  wide  and  two  yards 
long,  and  passing  it  several  times  around  the 
ankle  to  secure  the  end,  brought  it  from  the  inside 
of  the  ankle  across  the  top  of  the  foot  down 
over  all  the  toes  except  the  large  one,  under 
the  foot,  up  on  the  inside  and  around  the 
ankle    in    a   figure    of    eight,    bending    all   the 


11 


small  toes,  but  drawing  the  little  one  clear 
under. 

At  first  the  pain  was  not  great,  and  Ping-Kua 
made  light  of  it,  stepping  proudly  about,  showing 
off  her  embroidered  shoes  to  her  playmates;  but 
by  noon  she  sat  on  the  kang  (brick  bed)  and  did 
not  try  to  walk.  By  bedtime  she  was  crying  and 
begging  piteously  to  have  the  cruel  bandages 
taken  off. 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  great-grandmother,  who 
was  grieved  to  see  her  darling's  lovely  eyes  filled 
with  tears  and  her  sweet  little  face  drawn  with 
pain,  "never  any  more.  You  must  just  endure 
the  pain  as  the  other  girls  do." 

By  the  end  of  the  week  the  poor  little  toes, 
which  had  scampered  here  and  there  with  their 
happy  owner,  were  red  and  tender,  and  Apple  sat 
all  day  long  on  the  kang  holding  her  aching  feet. 
But  that  would  never  do.  She  must  learn  to  bear 
the  pain  and  use  her  bound  feet,  mother  and 
grandmother  insisted,  as  they  approached  to  help 
her  down.  Ping-Kua  appealed  tearfully  to  great- 
grandma,  who  had  always  come  to  the  rescue,  but 
great-grandma  replied,  *'  Mei-fa-tzu,  pao-pei,''  i.e., 
"There  is  no  help  for  it,  precious."  Then  the 
tortured  child  flew  into  a  rage,  crying  out  that  she 
could  not  and  would  not  walk, —  that  she  wanted 
to  die, —  and  there  followed  such  another  scene 
as  occurred  when  she  was  born;  they  trying  to 
pull  her  off  the  kang,  and  she  resisting  with  all 


12 


her  might,  biting  and  scratching  like  a  wild- 
cat. 

"You  unfilial,  good-for-nothing  slave!"  cried 
the  mother,  making  a  dive  at  her.  "Why  were 
we  such  fools  as  to  let  you  live.'^" 

Between  them  they  dragged  her  off  the  hang 
and  carried  her,  screaming  and  biting,  into  the 
court  and  left  her  there  to  go  without  her  supper 
and  stay  out  over  night  or  walk  back.  Of  course 
she  walked  back,  but  she  had  to  do  it  on  her  heels, 
carefully  holding  up  the  sore  toes,  as  she  clung  to 
everything  within  reach. 

Such  scenes  were  enacted  many,  many  times. 
The  father  threatened  to  sell  her,  older  sister  and 
companions  jeered  and  exhibited  their  beautiful 
(?)  small  feet,  while  grandmother  and  mother 
coaxed,  bribed,  scolded,  and  beat  her  by  turns, 
drew  the  bandages  tighter  and  tighter,  putting  on 
smaller  and  smaller  shoes,  till  at  last  poor  little 
Apple  settled  down  to  the  dumb  endurance  of 
pain,  submitting  to  the  inevitable  that  puts  in  the 
faces  of  the  Chinese  women  the  look  of  hopeless- 
ness that  so  cuts  one  to  the  heart. 

Before  that  time  arrived,  however,  there  were 
many  weary  months  of  suflFering;  many  days  of 
agony,  and  nights  when  she  could  not  sleep  for  the 
pain  and  yet  dared  not  moan  and  wake  the 
others.  She  ran  no  more  with  the  camel  caravan, 
but  sat  in  the  gate  looking  wistfully  after  it. 
Even    the    candy    man   didn't  draw   her    often 


13 


into  the  street,  unless  he  stopped  near  their 
door. 

One  day,  about  two  years  after  her  feet  entered 
into  bondage,  as  Apple  played  jack-stones  on  the 
steps,  an  unusually  gorgeous  funeral  came  by,  and, 
springing  up,  away  she  went  with  the  throng  of 
children,  who  ran  by  the  side  of  the  procession, — 
not  as  she  used  to  run,  but  surprisingly  fast  con- 
sidering the  condition  of  her  feet. 

She  wanted  to  see  all  the  wonderful  display, 
but,  becoming  weary,  and  her  feet  aching  hor- 
ribly, she  fell  behind  the  rest  and,  coming  to  what 
looked  like  the  entrance  to  a  temple,  dropped 
down  on  the  steps. 

After  the  procession  had  all  passed  by,  cu- 
riosity prompted  Ping-Kua  to  enter  and  take  a 
peep  at  the  idols.  When  she  shyly  looked  in  at 
the  door,  to  her  surprise  no  idols  were  there,  but 
opposite  the  door,  in  a  fine  shrine  with  silken 
curtains  at  the  sides,  sat  the  image  of  an  official 
in  his  robes  of  state.  In  front  was  a  large  bronze 
incense  burner,  in  which  smoked  several  sticks  of 
lighted  incense.  Piled  high  on  either  side  of  the 
image  were  many  volumes  of  blue-covered  books. 
The  room  did  not  look  like  a  temple,  and  while 
Ping-Kua  was  hesitating  between  entering,  or 
running  away,  an  old  man  with  white  hair  and 
beard  came  from  one  corner  of  the  room,  where  a 
bed,  table,  books,  and  teacups  showed  the  room 
to  be  his  dwelling  place,  and  smiling  upon  her. 


14 


said,  "Little  daughter,  from  where  have  you 
come?" 

There  was  something  so  kind  in  his  voice  and 
face  that  the  child  could  feel  no  fear,  and  stepping 
over  the  high  doorsill,  she  answered  his  questions 
about  her  age  and  name,  and  then  began  to  tell 
him  of  the  funeral  she  had  been  following. 

The  old  man  sat  down  and  listened,  greatly 
pleased  with  the  artlessness  and  beauty  of  his 
visitor.  She  told  of  the  gorgeous  umbrellas, 
banners,  flags,  and  "tens  and  tens"  of  beautifully 
dressed  priests.  "And  the  coflfin!  You  should 
have  seen  the  thirty  carriers,  the  red  lacquer 
carrying  poles,  and  the  golden  dragons  embroid- 
ered on  the  red  satin  cover !  He  must  have  been  a 
great  man,"  she  added,  as,  with  a  sigh,  she  sat 
down  on  the  floor,  and  gathering  her  aching  feet 
into  her  hands  to  ease  them,  looked  up  at  him. 

"A  great  man,  was  he?  And  of  what  advan- 
tage is  it  to  be  great?"  slowly  answered  the  aged 
one,  more  as  if  speaking  to  himself  than  to  the  girl. 
"I,  too,  was  a  great  man,  and  what  am  I  now?  " 

The  loving  child  heart  caught  the  pathos  in 
his  face  and  voice  and  quickly  responded,  "Are 
you  not  a  great  man  still,  honorable  old  head?  " 

"Alas,  no!  Once  this  whole  place  was  our 
home.  All  the  courts  and  large  buildings  about 
here  were  ours.  Now  most  of  them  belong  to 
others.  We  are  considered  a  high  family  yet, 
but  alas!  alas!" 


15 


The  little  girl  had  her  own  troubles,  but  her 
heart  went  out  to  the  sorrowing  old  man,  and 
rising,  she  placed  a  sympathetic  hand  upon  his 
knee,  saying,  "Grandfather,  isn't  this  hall  yours? 
This  is  a  great  place." 

"Yes,  but  in  the  past  we  were  as  if  belonging 
to  the  royal  family.  Child,  do  you  see  yonder 
shrine?  That  image  is  of  my  father.  Those 
books  are  our  family  record  for  twenty  genera- 
tions. I  am  eighty  and  one  years  old.  I  live 
only  to  guard  this  shrine  and  worship  my  ances- 
tors." 

Ping-Kua  gazed  with  awe  upon  the  shrine, 
image,  and  books,  and  then  upon  the  white  hair 
and  beard  of  her  host,  and  wished  they  would 
give  him  as  grand  a  funeral  when  he  died  as  the 
one  she  had  just  seen.  Then,  suddenly,  remem- 
bering she  was  farther  from  her  own  door  than 
she  was  allowed  to  go  alone,  she  made  the  old  man 
a  courtesy,  slipped  out,  and  hastened  home. 


16 


CHAPTER  III 

In  that  same  Chinese  city,  Ning-Yang,  there 
lived  a  family  by  the  name  of  Wu,  and  a  proud 
old  family  it  was.  Their  record  ran  back  for  many 
generations  without  a  break,  and  to  keep  that  line 
unbroken  was  the  dearest  wish  of  their  lives;  for 
though  they  had  lost  official  rank  and  most  of 
their  great  wealth,  they  had  kept  all  the  family 
pride. 

It  so  happened  that  though  many  children 
had  been  born  to  them,  only  one  was  a  boy. 
Upon  him  rested  all  their  hopes,  for  daughters  are 
not  reckoned  as  children  by  a  Chinese  father. 
They  belong  to  the  families  of  the  men  to  whom 
he  marries  them. 

One  morning  about  two  years  after  the  events 
of  the  last  chapter,  the  Wus  were  gathered  in  a 
solemn  council.  The  all-important  subject  under 
consideration  was  the  finding  of  a  wife  for  Lung- 
Chu,  the  son, —  one  favored  of  the  gods,  who 
would  become  the  mother  of  sons,  that  her  sons, 
and  their  sons'  sons,  might  worship  at  the  graves 
of  the  Wus,  thus  insuring  peace  and  plenty  to  the 
spirits  of  the  dead  ancestors.  A  fortune-teller 
had  selected  the  day  as  a  lucky  one.  A  necro- 
mancer was  present. 


17 


The  council  was  opened  by  placing  burning 
incense  and  food  before  the  ancestral  tablets. 
Each  male  in  the  order  of  his  age  —  the  oldest 
first — prostrated  himself  before  them  and 
knocked  his  head  on  the  floor  three  times.  The 
necromancer  then  came  forward  and,  spreading 
out  the  Wheel  of  Life  and  his  books  of  magic 
and  astrology,  with  a  great  showing  of  mystery 
and  wisdom,  cast  the  boy's  horoscope,  which  was 
carefully  written  down. 

The  necromancer  having  been  feasted  and 
escorted  to  the  outer  gate,  a  go-between  was 
called.  Very  minute  directions  were  given  her 
as  to  the  kind  of  girl  she  should  find,  special 
emphasis  being  laid  upon  health  and  the  small- 
ness  of  feet.  She  was  promised  an  unusually 
large  fee  if  she  brought  them  a  prize. 

During  the  council  all  turned  reverently  to  a 
white-haired  grandfather,  who  occupied  the  seat 
of  honor,  asking  his  advice.  He  said  but  little 
and  spoke  of  no  particular  family  or  girl,  but  all 
the  time  he  felt  the  touch  of  a  child's  hand  upon 
his  knee,  and  before  the  eyes  of  his  memory 
was  the  picture  of  a  sweet  little  girl  sitting,  tailor- 
fashion,  on  his  floor,  looking  up  at  him  with  soft, 
sympathetic  eyes;  and  later  he  waylaid  the  go- 
between  and  told  her  of  Apple's  visit.  He  con- 
cluded with,  "She  said  she  was  eight  years  old 
and  her  father's  name  was  Wei,*  living  on  Right- 

*Pronounced  Way. 


18 


eous  Harmony  Street.  It  must  be  near,  for  her 
feet  were  tender  from  the  binding,  and  she 
couldn't  have  come  a  great  way.  That  was  two 
years  ago.  She  had  moth  eyebrows,  d^er  eyes, 
cherry  lips,  and  her  hair  was  like  the  raven's  wing. 
Find  us  that  girl  for  our  boy's  bride,  and  I  will 
double  your  fee." 

Double  her  fee!  The  go-between's  heart 
leaped  at  the  thought.  What  was  more,  a  friend 
of  hers  (also  a  go-between)  had  told  her  that  very 
morning  of  having  been  employed  by  a  Wei  family 
to  find  a  rich  mother-in-law  for  their  unusually 
pretty  daughter,  and  who  knew  but  she  was  the 
very  one?  If  so,  what  luck!  None  of  this,  how- 
ever, appeared  in  her  face.  She  was  an  oriental. 
Also,  she  earned  her  living  by  her  wits  and,  know- 
ing the  grandfather  had  set  his  heart  on  that  one 
girl  or  he  never  would  have  oflFered  to  double  her 
fee,  she  thought  he  probably  would  give  still  more. 
So  she  looked  discouraged,  said  it  was  impossible 
to  find  a  child  among  so  many,  and,  if  by  chance 
she  should  succeed,  she  would  have  wasted  so 
much  heart  and  received  so  much  weariness,  he 
ought  in  all  conscience  to  give  at  least  ten  more 
strings  of  cash. 

But  Grandfather  Wu  was  also  an  oriental,  and 
he  knew  that,  as  likely  as  not,  the  go-between 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  Weis,  and  refused 
to  give  another  cash.  They  compromised  at 
length  by  his  adding  five  strings  and,  highly  elated 


19 


at  her  own  shrewdness  and  the  luck  the  gods  had 
sent  her,  she  hastened  away  in  search  of  her 
friend. 

After  much  talk  and  drinking  of  boiling  hot 
tea,  the  go-between  told  her  friend  the  news,  and 
together  they  went  to  Righteous  Harmony  Street. 

They  found  Apple  at  her  father's  gate  in  a 
group  of  children  surrounding  the  taffy  man. 
Buying  some  taffy,  the  Wei  go-between  drew 
her  to  the  steps  and  engaged  her  in  conversation 
while  they  ate,  that  the  other  go-between  might 
take  a  good  look  at  her. 

Presently  the  Wu  go-between  asked,  "Are  you 
the  little  Wei  girl  who  once  visited  a  venerable 
grandfather  in  what  you  took  to  be  a  temple?" 

Frightened,  the  child  shrank  behind  her  own 
go-between,  and  timidly  replied,  "It  was  a  long 
time  ago,  and  I  did  no  harm.     Why  do  you  ask?  " 

"Of  course  you  did  nothing  wrong,  precious. 
I  just  wanted  to  know  if  it  were  you.  That  aged 
white  beard  was  very  much  pleased  with  you,'* 
the  go-between  replied;  then  taking  leave  of  her 
friend,  she  went  home  and  prepared  a  feast  to 
celebrate  the  wonderful  good  fortune  of  the  day's 
work. 

The  Wei  go-between  went  in  with  Ping-Kua 
and  was  feasted  by  the  family,  as  she  gave  them  a 
greatly  exaggerated  account  of  the  wealth,  posi- 
tion, and  good  qualities  of  the  prospective  mother- 
in-law  she  had  found  for  their  daughter. 


20 


The  next  day  the  Wu  go-between  reported 
secretly  to  the  grandfather  and  openly  to  the 
family.  All  the  girl's  good  points  were  set  forth 
with  little  regard  for  the  truth.  She  was  modest, 
good-tempered,  polite,  obedient,  and  very  beauti- 
ful. Her  eyes,  hair,  and  especially  the  smallness 
of  feet  already  obtained  were  dwelt  upon  at 
length. 

Negotiations  were  soon  on  foot  between  the 
two  families.  A  necromancer  was  employed  by 
the  Weis.  Ping-Kua's  horoscope  was  cast,  writ- 
ten out  on  red  paper,  and  sent  to  the  Wus,  and 
they  sent  to  the  Weis  the  horoscope  of  Lung-Chu. 

Again  the  wise  man  who  read  the  stars  and  in- 
terpreted the  mysteries  of  the  universe  came,  this 
time  to  compare  the  two  horoscopes. 

Great  was  the  suspense  of  Grandfather  Wu 
while  this  was  being  done.  Now  that  he  knew 
it  was  his  charming  little  friend  who  might  become 
one  of  the  family,  he  dreaded  losing  her,  and  there 
might  be  something  in  their  birth  records  which 
would  spoil  all  his  plans.  Lung-Chu  was  born 
under  the  auspices  of  the  rat.  Ping-Kua  might 
have  been  born  under  the  influence  of  the  cat,  in 
which  cast  it  would  never  do  to  unite  them,  for 
cats  kill  rats.  At  last,  to  his  great  relief,  the  wise 
man  announced  that  the  two  horoscopes  har- 
monized. 

Everything  was  soon  completed  after  that. 
The  great  red  betrothal  cards  were  made  out, 


21 


put  in  their  gorgeous  red,  gold-decorated  envelopes 
and  exchanged,  and  the  boy  and  girl  were  united 
by  China's  most  unbreakable  bond,  the  marriage 
betrothal. 

They  were  but  children,  he  fifteen  and  she  ten. 
They  never  had  seen  each  other,  and  never  would 
till  they  were  man  and  wife,  but  the  necromancer 
had  read  the  secrets  of  the  gods  and  found  out 
that  upon  the  glittering  fields  of  the  northern  ice, 
in  the  moonlight,  the  old  God  of  Matrimony  had 
tied  their  feet  together  with  a  red  silk  string,  eons 
and  eons  before  they  were  born  —  therefore, 
married  they  must  be. 

For  the  boy,  life  went  on  the  same.  He  was  in 
school  and  remained  there.  Rumors  of  the  good 
times,  with  athletics  and  military  drill,  enjoyed 
by  the  boys  of  the  mission  school  at  Great  Peace 
City  having  reached  Lung-Chu,  he  determined 
to  attend  that  school.  His  people  did  not  like  the 
idea.  They  much  prefered  his  remaining  where 
Confucius  was  worshipped  every  morning  and 
where  no  foreign  religion  was  taught;  but  he 
always  had  had  his  own  way,  and  was  then  a 
pupil  in  the  "Jesus  people's"  school. 

But,  for  the  girl,  many  things  were  changed. 
She  no  longer  belonged  to  her  own  people.  She 
belonged  to  the  Wus  and  remained  with  the  Weis 
till  such  time  as  her  husband's  family  saw  fit  to 
send  for  her.  The  thing  for  which  her  life  had 
been  spared,  the  thing  which  from  infancy  she  had 


22 


heard  talked  of  as  her  destiny,  had  come  to  pass. 
She  was  ting-kui4iao,  i.e.,  bargained  for  by  a  rich 
family.  The  engagement  rings  hung  in  the  holes 
that  had  been  made  in  the  three-days-old  baby's 
ears  for  that  purpose,  and  all  the  neighbors  knew 
when  they  saw  them  that  she  was  engaged. 

Very  proud  was  Apple  of  the  fact,  and  I'm 
afraid  she  tossed  her  pretty  head  oftener  than  was 
at  all  necessary,  that  the  ear-rings  might  the  bet- 
ter be  observed.  Henceforth,  she  must  keep  in- 
doors and  diligently  learn  to  sew,  cook,  wash,  and 
embroider.  She  must  learn  the  etiquette  to  be 
observed  by  a  daughter-in-law,  and  patiently  bear 
the  pain  of  her  gradually  diminishing  feet.  Poor 
little  Apple!  The  bandages  did  hurt  so  cruelly. 
It  also  hurt  her  loving  heart  to  know  that  even 
great-grandmother  regarded  her  now  as  belonging 
to  some  one  else. 


2H 


CHAPTER  IV 

Five  years  went  by  with  nothing  of  interest, 
just  the  same  dull  round,  and  then  one  day  some- 
thing happened.  A  messenger  from  Mr.  Wu 
brought  word  that  the  fortunate  date,  fixed  by 
the  stars  and  announced  by  the  necromancer  for 
his  son  to  claim  his  wife,  was  the  fifth  day  of  the 
sixth  moon.  A  servant  would  wait  upon  Mr. 
Wei  on  the  morrow  bringing  money,  the  wedding 
garments,  and  wedding  presents. 

Ping-Kua  was  really  frightened,  as  every 
Chinese  bride  has  good  reason  to  be,  but  true  to 
the  etiquette  for  girls,  she  pretended  to  be  much 
more  so  than  she  really  was.  Crying  and  pro- 
testing that  she  couldn't  leave  her  parents,  she 
ran  and  hid  when  the  presents  and  wedding 
finery  came.  She  was  longing  to  see  them,  and 
pleased  as  well  as  frightened  at  the  near  approach 
of  the  great  day  of  days,  but  it  would  have  been 
very  immodest  to  show  it,  so  she  continued  to  cry; 
and  it  was  not  until  her  mother  and  some  neighbors 
fairly  carried  her  into  the  room  where  they  were 
that  she  would  look  at  the  beautiful  garments  in 
which  she  was  to  be  dressed. 

Busy  days  of  preparation  followed,  and  by  the 
fourth  day  of  the  sixth  moon  all  was  in  readiness. 


24 


Little  Ping-Kua,  child  though  she  was,  would  be 
carried  out  of  the  gate  before  dayhght  of  the 
morrow  and  must  be  dressed  for  the  great  event. 

If  the  grandmother  felt  sorry  for  the  little 
girl,  she  did  not  show  it.  If  the  mother,  remem- 
bering her  own  marriage  and  what  she  went 
through,  longed  to  comfort  her  daughter,  she  said 
not  a  word.  But  great-grandmother,  whose 
heart  yearned  over  the  child  who  from  her  birth 
had  been  her  pet,  and  whom  she  was  about  to  lose, 
called  Ping-Kua  to  the  brick  bed  which  she  was 
no  longer  able  to  leave,  and  holding  the  warm, 
young  hand  in  both  of  her  old,  withered  ones, 
talked  long  and  lovingly  to  the  trembling  bride. 

"Precious,"  she  said,  "heed  my  words.  No 
matter  what  they  say  or  do  to  you  to-morrow, 
don't  for  your  life  speak,  cry,  or  show  in  any  way 
that  you  care.  They  will  all  be  watching  you, 
and  your  future  happiness  depends  upon  your 
making  no  sign.  When  you  arrive,  they  will  take 
you  out  of  the  chair  and  lead  you  into  the  house 
where  your  husband  will  worship  Heaven.  When 
he  lifts  your  veil  and  sees  your  face  for  the  first 
time,  don't  raise  your  eyes;  keep  them  on  the 
floor,  and  remain  motionless.  He  cannot  help 
being  pleased  with  your  face  and  feet,  and  if  you 
have  perfect  control  of  your  feelings,  all  will  be 
well.  You  must  worship  the  ancestors,  knock 
your  head  on  the  floor  before  your  mother-in-law, 
father-in-law,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family,  and 


25 


your  husband,  as  you  have  been  taught.  When 
the  ceremonies  are  over  and  they  seat  you  on  the 
brick  bed,  clasp  your  hands  in  your  lap  and  fasten 
your  eyes  upon  them.  The  guests  will  all  come 
and  stare  at  you,  remarking  on  your  looks,  dress 
and  temper, —  hateful  remarks,  to  make  you 
angry;  funny  ones,  to  make  you  laugh;  unkind 
ones,  to  make  you  cry.  They  will  try  to  make  you 
look  up  or  speak.  Do  neither.  They  will  say 
you  are  bad  tempered  and  very  homely,  and  they 
will  pull  your  clothes  and  throw  rice  over  you 
and  down  your  neck,  but  remember,  neither 
laugh,  cry,  get  angry,  speak,  nor  look  up.  It  will 
be  over  at  last,  and  the  women  will  come,  take  off 
the  wedding  garment  and  dress  you  as  a  daughter- 
in-law.  They  will  pull  out  the  hair  on  your  tem- 
ples by  the  roots,  making  your  forehead  square, 
to  show  that  you  are  a  married  woman,  and  dress 
your  hair  in  the  married  woman  style,  and  you 
will  be  settled  for  life." 

As  evening  approached,  the  women  —  mothers 
of  sons  —  who  had  been  chosen  to  dress  the  bride, 
took  Ping-Kua  in  hand.  They  powdered  her  face 
and  neck  till  they  were  white  like  an  idol's, 
touched  her  lips  with  red,  and  brushed  a  hint  of 
red  on  her  cheeks.  Then  her  heavy  black  hair 
was  done  up  on  her  head  for  the  first  time  and 
stuck  through  with  ornamental  hairpins  that 
came  out  over  her  ears.  Red  artificial  flowers 
followed.     The    bandages    were    drawn    a    little 


26 


tighter  on  the  poor  crippled  fe^t  and  covered  by 
beautifully  embroidered  shoes.  Next,  the  lovely 
red  satin  wedding  garment  was  donned.  The 
finishing  touch  was  green  jade  ear-rings,  gold 
rings,  and  bracelets,  and  our  Ping-Kua  looked 
like  a  gorgeous  oriental  doll,  only  she  was  flesh 
and  blood,  and  in  her  great  dark  eyes  there 
brooded  a  haunting  fear.  Remember,  she  was 
an  utter  stranger  even  to  the  man  to  whom  she 
was  to  be  married. 

According  to  the  custom  for  brides  in  China, 
Ping-Kua  had  eaten  but  little  food  for  three  days, 
and  there  must  be  no  sleep  for  her  that  last  night. 

By  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  bang! 
bang!  of  the  big  brass  cymbals  and  the  long- 
drawn-out  wails  of  the  dismal  horns  were  heard 
from  far  down  the  unlighted  street.  The  dis- 
turbed sleepers  turned  on  their  kangs  thinking, 
"Only  a  bride  being  carried  to  her  mother-in-law," 
and  dropped  off  to  sleep  again,  while  trembUng 
Ping-Kua  clung  desperately  to  her  life-long  pro- 
tector, great-grandmother. 

The  red  marriage  chair,  with  its  images 
and  artificial  flowers,  red  carrying-poles  and 
carriers,  stopped  at  the  Wei's  gate. 

With  many  admonitions  as  to  how  she  should 
conduct  herself,  the  yard-square  of  soft  red  silk, 
which  is  the  wedding  veil  in  China,  was  thrown 
over  Apple,  a  corner  in  front  and  one  behind 
covering  her  to  the  knees,  and  she  was  more  carried 


27 


than  led  over  the  path  of  red  cloth  spread  down 
for  her  to  walk  upon  to  the  chair,  put  in  it  and 
the  door  closed  and  locked.  Then  the  carriers 
swung  the  gorgeous  chair  to  their  shoulders  and, 
following  the  lantern  bearers  who  led  the  way 
with  large  red  lanterns,  amid  the  din  of  fire- 
crackers and  the  clashing,  bellowing,  and  wailing 
of  musical  instruments,  which  were  supposed 
to  represent  the  grief  of  the  daughter  at  leaving 
her  father's  house,  Ping-Kua  went  out  of  the  gate. 


38 


CHAPTER  V 

Across  the  country  from  east,  west,  north,  and 
south,  wheelbarrows,  piled  high  with  bundles  of 
clothing  and  bedding,  and  with  a  girl  in  the  midst 
on  each  side,  propelled  by  one  man  pushing  behind 
and  another  pulling  in  front,  were  making  their 
creaking  way  toward  Great  Peace  City,  bound  for 
the  mission  compound  on  "The-Way-to-the 
Clouds"  Street,  just  outside  the  city  wall, 
opposite  the  Great  Temple. 

It  was  a  busy  day  at  the  girls'  school.  Re- 
ceiving and  registering  the  girls,  assigning  rooms 
and  looking  over  each  bundle  of  clothing  to  see 
if  the  required  garments,  bedding,  combs,  towels, 
and  razors  for  the  head  shaving  had  been  pro- 
vided, kept  the  foreign  teacher  busy  indeed; 
and  when  a  servant  came,  saying  "The  Shepherd- 
of-the-Flock  from  Ning-Yang  would  speak  with 
you  about  a  yaO'Chin'ti-shih-chingy^^  i.  e.,  very 
important  business,  she  gasped.  How  could  she 
stop  to  talk  with  him?  If  the  Chinese  would  only 
state  their  business  at  once,  it  would  not  be  so 
bad,  but  they  must  drink  tea  and  talk  "an  old 
half  day"  before  coming  to  the  point.  She  found 
him  in  the  study,  and  to  her  great  relief  he  com- 
menced with  "Pardon  me,  please,  for  taking  any 


29 


of  your  valuable  time  this  morning,  but  I  am 
asked  to  see  you  on  what  I  fear  will  be  a  difficult 
business.  As  you  are  so  busy,  I  will  waste  no 
time  on  the  polite,  ceremonious  Chinese  way — 
no,  don't  send  for  tea  —  but  state  my  errand  at 
once,  like  a  foreigner.  You  know  Wu  Lung-Chu 
of  the  boys'  school?" 

"Yes,  he  is  our  best  scholar." 

"Well,  his  family  is  in  great  unrest.  They 
married  him  to  a  girl  with  whom  the  rest  of  the 
family  are  well  pleased,  but  Lung-Chu  cannot 
bear  to  look  at  her  face.  According  to  our 
customs,  she  has  no  faults.  She  is  good  looking, 
silent,  obedient,  and  a  good  worker,  but  her  hus- 
band declares  she  knows  nothing,  and  her  small 
feet,  of  which  they  supposed  he  would  be  proud, 
he  thinks  are  hideous.  He  says  the  girls  here  at 
school  are  able  to  read  and  sing  and  are  intelli- 
gent. Moreover,  their  feet  are  natural,  and  they 
can  walk  properly  instead  of  hobbling  along  stiff- 
legged. 

"Both  families  are  eating  a  great  deal  of 
bitterness  over  the  situation.  No  one  can  do 
anything  with  Lung-Chu.  He  has  always  had 
his  way.  In  their  despair,  his  parents  have  given 
birth  to  a  good  scheme,  if  it  can  be  carried  out, 
and  that  is  my  business  here  this  morning.  They 
beg  you  to  receive  Ping-Kua,  their  daughter-in- 
law,  into  this  school.  They  hope  that  when  she 
can  read  and  sing  their  son  may  be  reconciled  to 
her." 

30 


The  foreign  teacher's  face  was  a  study.  "Here 
is  a  situation,"  she  thought.  "It  has  never  been 
the  custom  of  our  Woman's  Foreign  Missionary 
Society  to  admit  married  women  to  the  girls' 
schools.  They  have  always  attended  the  train- 
ing schools.  But  this  married  woman  is  but  a 
child,  only  fifteen.  Who  knows  but  it  might 
be  the  beginning  of  a  Christian  home  for  the 
leading  pupil  of  the  boys'  school,  who  will  prob- 
ably be  a  power  in  the  New  China?" 

When  she  spoke,  it  was  to  say,  "I  hesitate 
about  opening  our  girls'  boarding  school  to  mar- 
ried women,  but  perhaps  it  is  best  in  this  case.  I 
must  know  more  about  her  people  first.  Ask 
her  mother-in-law  to  come  to  visit  the  school 
and  see  me.  Meanwhile,  say  nothing  of  this  to 
anyone." 

A  few  days  later  the  parents  of  Lung-Chu  came 
to  visit  their  son.  While  there  it  was  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world  to  call  upon  the  foreign 
ladies  at  the  woman's  hospital  and  the  girls' 
school.  Of  course  they  had  a  private  interview 
with  the  head  of  the  school.  She  was  greatly 
pleased  with  them.  Evidently  they  were  of  a 
much  higher  class  than  most  of  those  who  sent 
their  daughters  there  to  school.  However,  there 
njust  be  no  mistakes  made,  and  she  Hstened  again 
to  the  case,  then  told  them  plainly  that  if  she 
received  their  daughter-in-law  it  would  be  a 
special  favor,  and  they  must  help  all  they  could. 


31 


"In  the  first  place,"  she  said,  "her  feet  must  be 
unbound.     We  admit  no  girl  with  bound  feet." 

That  was  a  poser,  but  remembering  Lung- 
Chu's  remarks  about  his  wife's  small  feet,  they 
consented. 

"Then,"  continued  the  teacher,  "you  know 
ours  is  a  Christian  school.  We  do  not  require 
our  pupils  to  become  Christians,  but  teach  them 
all  the  *  Jesus  doctrine,'  and  hope  they  will 
believe.  Are  you  wilUng  your  daughter  should 
become  a  Christian  if  she  so  wishes?" 

Again  they  hesitated,  but  seeing  no  other  way 
out  of  their  dilemma,  replied  that  they  were 
/J^      willing. 

When,  upon  her  return  from  Great  Peace  City, 
Mrs.  Wu  laid  before  the  family  the  school  scheme, 
Ping-Kua  listened  with  unbeHeving  ears;  but  it 
gradually  dawned  upon  her  that  they  meaiit  to 
send  her  to  the  foreigners  and  to  unbind  her  feet 
for  the  purpose  of  making  her  attractive  to  Lung- 
Chu.  Despair  flooded  her  soul,  and  to  the  as- 
tonishment of  the  mother-in-law  the  docile, 
obedient  Ping-Kua  stood  before  her,  an  angry- 
eyed  rebel,  pouring  out  her  wrath  as  fast  as  she 
could  talk. 

"You'll  never  send  me  to  school.  I'll  die 
first.  What  is  the  use  of  my  wasting  my  heart 
to  please  Lung-Chu?  For  eight  years  I  have  been 
tortured  to  make  my  feet  so  small  my  husband 
would  want  me,  only  to  have  him  say  they  are 


32 


hideous,  and  now  you  want  to  make  them  large 
to  please  him,  and  the  great  probability  is  he 
would  still  hate  me.  It  will  never  do.  I  won't 
go!" 

Bursting  into  a  storm  of  tears  and  sobs,  she 
threw  herself  prone  upon  the  hangy  wailing, 
"Finished!    Finished!     Ill  die." 

For  two  days  the  poor  little  rejected  bride 
lay  there,  a  bundle  of  misery,  refusing  all  food, 
that  she  might  starve  to  death  and  relieve  them 
of  her  hated  presence. 

Mrs.  Wu  was  an  unusually  indulgent  mother- 
in-law,  but  at  last  her  patience  came  to  an  end, 
and  taking  Ping-Kua  by  the  shoulders,  she  shook 
her  soundly.  Then,  pulling  her  to  a  sitting  posi- 
tion, she  slapped  both  sides  of  her  face  in  the 
Chinese  mother-in-law  fashion,  shouting  as  she 
did  it,  "Now  stop  this,  you  bad  creature!  We 
are  eating  enough  bitterness  over  this  unfor- 
tunate business  without  your  adding  to  it.  You 
are  going  to  go  to  school  and  use  your  heart  to 
learn  to  read,  or  we  will  divorce  you." 

Ping-Kua's  heart  stood  still,  and  her  eyes  grew 
wide  with  fear.  She  knew  full  well  that  they 
could  do  what  they  pleased  with  her,  and  none 
could  hinder.  She  also  knew,  only  too  well,  what 
fate  would  be  hers  if  divorced  and  cast  into  the 
street.     Anything  would  be  better  than  that. 

Mrs.  Wu  had  brought  back  from  the  girls' 
school  a  pattern  for  a  schoolgirl's  shoes,  and  Apple 


33 


went  to  work  making  shoes,  and  allowed  the 
bandages  to  be  loosened  on  her  feet.  She  re- 
belled no  more  and  did  everything  they  told  her 
to  do,  but  it  was  with  a  heart  of  lead.  She  didn't 
want  to  go  to  school.  She  wanted  to  keep  her 
small  feet  after  getting  them  by  so  many  years  of 
agony.  She  was  afraid  of  the  foreigners.  Didn't 
great-grandmother  destroy  her  clay  mouse  and 
make  her  knock  her  head  before  the  idols  because 
she  had  seen  and  talked  with  one  of  them  long  ago? 
Who  knew  what  evil  eye  they  might  cast  upon 
her?  She  was  between  two  great  fears, —  the 
one  of  being  cast  out,  and  the  other  of  the  for- 
eigners. But  her  fear  of  "the  outside  people" 
was  not  so  great  as  the  dread  of  divorce.  Her 
one  comfort  was  the  aged  grandfather  of  Lung- 
Chu.  Apple  had  found  an  old  friend  in  him,  and 
he  tried  to  cheer  her  by  saying,  "Rest  your  heart, 
little  daughter.  If  you  learn  to  read  the  books 
of  the  holy  sage,  Confucius,  my  grandson  cannot 
help  being  pleased  with  you." 


34 


CHAPTER  VI 

Many  emotions  swayed  Ping-Kua  as  from 
the  door  of  her  room,  the  next  morning  after 
her  arrival  at  school,  she  looked  upon  a  court  full 
of  happy-faced,  natural-footed  girls,  running 
races,  playing  ball,  jumping  the  rope,  and  turning 
the  mill  grinding  beans  and  corn  together  for 
griddle  cakes,  laughing  as  they  went  round  and 
round,  while  groups  of  older  ones  studied  aloud, 
swaying  to  the  rhythm  of  the  text  as  they  re- 
peated it. 

As  she  gazed,  astonishment  gave  place  to 
curiosity,  curiosity  to  disgust.  "How  masculine! 
Just  like  boys.  So  unladylike.  And  those  feet! 
Will  mine  ever  be  such  shovels.^  Girls  so  old,  too, 
and  not  married.  Many  of  them  must  be  older 
than  I  am." 

Instinctively  her  hands  went  up  to  her  hair, 
and  there  came  over  her  a  great  feeling  of  re- 
moteness and  age.  She  was  the  only  one  of 
eighty  pupils  without  the  queue  and  bangs  that 
proclaim  a  Chinese  girl  to  be  unmarried.  Her 
feehngs  changed.  A  wistfulness  took  the  place 
of  repulsion.  "How  diflferent  from  anything 
I  have  ever  known!'*  she  thought.  "They  are 
all  so  free  and  happy.  Oh,  dear!  I  am  so 
diflferent,  how  can  I  ever  stay?" 

35 


Tears  welled  up  in  her  bewildered  eyes,  and  in 
all  the  world  at  that  moment  there  was  no  girl 
of  fifteen  who  seemed  more  isolated  and  forlorn 
than  our  little  Apple.  The  bottom  had  fallen 
out  of  her  world,  and  she  had  been  thrust  into 
another  one  where  she  felt  utterly  forsaken. 

Just  then  a  bell  rang  merrily,  and  all  ran  to  get 
their  Bibles  and  hymn-books  and  then  flocked 
toward  one  of  the  rooms  that  surrounded  the 
court. 

"Come  on,  we  are  going  to  the  opening  exer- 
cises," called  her  roommates;  and  slowly  —  for 
her  feet  were  in  the  process  of  regaining  their 
natural  shape  and  walking  was  difficult  —  she 
followed.  No  Bible  and  hy non-book  for  her; 
she  had  never  thought  of  girls  being  able  to  learn. 
Only  boys  had  intellect,  and  besides  it  was  very 
unfeminine  to  study. 

The  merry  throng  formed  in  line,  two  by  two, 
and  Ping-Kua  brought  up  the  rear  alone. 

Someone  in  the  room  played  a  strange  tune  on 
something  she  could  not  see,  and  all  marked  time 
and  then  marched  to  the  music  into  a  large  room 
filled  with  benches  and  desks  and  were  soon 
seated,  Ping-Kua  on  the  farthest  bench  by  the 
door.  She  was  no  sooner  seated,  then  her  fright- 
ened eyes  were  fastened  upon  the  strange  being 
seated  by  a  table  on  a  low  platform  facing  the 
girls.  "This  must  be  a  foreign  devil  woman,"  her 
thoughts  ran.     "  She  doesn't  look  like  the  one  who 


36 


made  the  clay  mouse.  How  queerly  she  is 
dressed.  How  immodest  to  have  her  dress  fit 
closely  and  show  her  form  and  arms.  Is  she  a 
married  woman?  Her  hair  is  done  up,  but  not 
pulled  out  across  her  temples  though," — and  again 
the  little  hands  went  up  to  her  own  bared  brow  — 
"and  her  feet!"  (Apple  forgot  her  forlornness 
and  had  to  draw  her  hand  back  and  drop  her 
face  up  to  the  eyes  into  the  open  end  of  her  wide 
sleeve  to  hide  the  giggle  which  would  come  when 
her  eyes  had  reached  the  lady's  feet.)  "Such 
shovels!  And  of  all  the  ugly  shoes  one  ever 
saw  —  plain  black,  with  not  a  flower  or  bright 
thing  about  them.  Of  what  could  such  disgust- 
ing looking  shoes  be  made?"  Just  there  she  was 
brought  back  to  her  senses  by  the  lady's  saying 
in  Chinese,  "We  will  sing  the  one  hundred  and 
twentieth  hymn." 

One  of  the  girls  went  to  a  queer-looking  box 
with  white  teeth  along  one  edge,  sat  down,  worked 
her  feet,  ran  her  fingers  over  the  teeth,  and  a 
strange  music  came  out  of  it.  All  the  girls  began 
to  sing,  except  Ping-Kua,  who  nearly  fell  ofif  her 
seat  in  astonishment. 

"Jesus  loves  me,  this  I  know. 
For  the  Bible  tells  me  so," 
was  what  they  sang.     What  it  all  meant,  Apple 
could  not  make  out,  but  some  one  loved  some  one, 
and  she  was  very  hungry  for  a  little  love,  just 
then,  thrust  out  as  she  was  from  home  among 


37 


entire  strangers.  Who  Jesus  was  she  didn't 
know,  only  the  missionaries  were  called  "Jesus 
people,"  but  she  did  know  that  her  life  was  empty 
of  love,  and  a  great  longing  rose  within  her  heart 
to  be  loved.  Great-grandmother  Wei  loved  her, 
and  Grandfather  W\i  loved  her,  but  they  seemed 
thousands  and  thousands  of  miles  away,  as  she 
sat  there  so  utterly  alone.  The  foreign  lady 
saw  the  little  wife  on  the  back  seat,  and  under- 
stood the  wistful  look  on  the  sweet  but  sad  face, 
and  her  heart  went  out  to  the  lonely  child. 

Would  wonders  never  cease?  After  the  sing- 
ing, each  girl  in  the  room  —  herself  excepted  — 
opened  a  book  and  read  in  turn.  Actually  rec- 
ognized the  Chinese  characters  like  hsien-shengs 
("before-me-born,"  which  means  scholar).  Ping- 
Kua's  heart  began  to  beat  rapidly.  If  those 
girls  could  learn  to  read,  she  could  and  would. 
Was  it  possible  she,  too,  could  learn  to  sing  and  — 
but  no!  It  was  too  much  even  to  dream  of  being 
able  to  make  music  by  fingering  the  white  teeth 
of  the  box,  and  yet,  the  girl  who  did  it  was  no 
older  than  she.  A  wonderful  vision  rose  before 
her,  and  she  vowed  then  and  there  to  throw 
her  whole  soul  into  her  new  life  and  learn  all  it 
was  possible  for  her  to  learn.  A  vow  that  she 
kept,  as  we  shall  see. 

The  service  over,  the  pupils  marched  out  in 
the  order  in  which  they  had  entered,  bringing 
Ping-Kua  the  last.     As  she  started,  the  foreign 


38 


lady  was  at  her  side.  She  spoke  to  her  lovingly 
and,  putting  an  arm  about  her  to  help  her  balance 
on  the  awkward  feet,  walked  with  her,  talking 
as  if  they  were  old  friends.  Something  loosened 
about  the  young  wife's  heart,  and  it  expanded 
even  as  her  feet  had  straggled  out  when  the 
bandages  came  oflF,  and  from  that  hour  real  life 
began. 

It  wasn't  easy.  The  maimed  feet  took  time 
in  recovering,  and  it  was  many  weeks  before  she 
could  walk  and  run  easily  and  without  pain,  but 
the  glad  day  came  and  then  how  delightful  it 
was.  The  gymnastic  exercises  and  running  and 
jumping  at  first  shocked  all  her  ideas  of  modesty, 
but  she  soon  learned  to  look  forward  to  them  with 
the  joy  of  a  child  set  free,  and  later,  when  there 
was  a  kicking  match,  none  kicked  higher  than 
Ping-Kua,  much  to  her  satisfaction.  But  that 
was  many  weeks  after  that  first  day.  It  was 
very  mortifying  to  be  obliged  to  enter  the  classes 
of  the  smallest  girls,  and  sometimes,  when  she 
caught  a  significant  glance  passing  between  two 
of  them,  it  made  her  angry,  but  she  kept  on 
determined  to  win. 

Her  greatest  trial  was  being  married.  It  made 
her  so  conspicuous  to  be  the  only  one  without 
bangs  and  a  braid,  and  then,  too,  the  girls  teased 
her  about  Lung-Chu.  One  day,  when  they  had 
teased  her  unmercifully,  she  put  on  all  her  wed- 
ding finery,  powdered  her  face,  and  touched  her 


39 


lips  with  red  and  went  to  morning  exercises, 
thinking  to  make  those  who  teased  envious.  All 
went  well  till  they  were  leaving  the  room,  and 
then  a  hand  detained  Ping-Kua,  and  the  foreign 
hsien-sheng's  voice  said,  close  to  her  ear,  "Go  to 
your  room  and  wash  your  face.  Painting  and 
powdering  are  false,  and  we  love  true  things." 
Oh,  how  ashamed  she  was!  "Every  bride  paints 
her  face.  Oh,  dear!  there  are  so  many  queer 
ways  at  school,"  she  thought,  and  the  powder 
was  first  washed  off  by  tears. 

Then  Sunday  came,  and  the  girls  said  they 
all  went  to  worship  in  the  high  brick  building, 
whose  roof  could  be  seen  over  the  wall  surrounding 
the  school  premises. 

Everything  in  the  new  world  to  which  Ping- 
Kua  had  come  was  so  different  from  her  past  life 
that  the  little  girl  had  grown  to  expect  a  surprise 
at  every  turn;  but  when  with  the  other  school- 
girls she  marched  into  the  Christian  temple 
and  found  no  idols,  no  incense  burning,  and  no 
shaven-headed  priests,  she  stared  with  aston- 
ishment. 

Where  the  idols  ought  to  be  were  only  some 
chairs,  a  stand  with  books  upon  it,  and  at  the 
side  one  of  those  music  boxes,  with  white  teeth 
along  one  edge,  which  she  now  knew  to  be  an 
organ.  There  was  no  more  than  time  to  note 
these  things,  when  the  tramp  of  marching  feet 
coming  in  behind  her  struck  Apple's  ears,  and 


40 


^^ 


^^^ 


"'^K../ 


wonderingly  she  looked  around  —  straight  into 
the  eyes  of  her  husband,  as  he  marched  up  the 
aisle  at  the  head  of  a  long  line  of  schoolboys. 

With  a  furious  blush  suffusing  her  throat  and 
face,  Apple  quickly  turned  and  sat  with  downcast 
eyes,  while  her  riotous  heart-beats  kept  pace  with 
the  swift  thoughts.  "Lung-Chu!  And  at  the 
head  of  the  schoolboys.  How  handsome  he 
looked!  Did  he  know  of  my  coming?  If  not, 
what  will  he  say  and  do  about  it?"  Then  fiery 
indignation  surged  through  her  being.  "What 
had  she  done  to  merit  such  treatment  from  her 
husband?  It  was  through  no  fault  of  hers  that 
Lung-Chu  despised  her.  All  her  life  she  had  been 
trained  to  please  him,  and  it  was  unjust  and  cruel 
to  treat  her  with  contempt." 

The  ideal  Chinese  daughter-in-law  who  had 
been  taught  from  the  sacred  books  that  girls 
should  have  four  virtues, —  silence,  obedience, 
good  looks,  and  ability  to  work, —  had  traveled 
a  long  way  on  the  road  to  individuality  in  those 
few  days  of  liberty,  that  she  dared  to  have  such 
thoughts.  But  there  they  were.  Moreover, 
without  in  the  least  suspecting  it,  Ping-Kua 
had  made  a  grave  breach  in  school  etiquette  by 
looking  at  the  schoolboys  marching  into  church, 
and  the  girls  by  her  side  were  nudging  each  other. 

Had  Lung-Chu  recognized  his  wife?  That  he 
had,  and  though  it  was  the  first  he  knew  of  any 
such  scheme  as  sending  her  to  school,  he  was  too 


41 


well  versed  in  Chinese  K*  to  show  his  surprise 
and  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  seen. 

Anyone  looking  at  Lung-Chu,  as  he  sat  with 
his  eyes  on  the  Bible  in  his  hands,  might  have 
supposed  him  engaged  in  silent  prayer,  so  serene 
was  his  face,  but  the  tumult  in  his  heart  was  equal 
to  Ping-Kua's  agitation.  He  knew  at  once  the 
reason  of  her  presence.  In  but  one  way  was  it 
possible.  His  parents  had  sent  her.  Did  they 
think  she  could  learn?  Evidently  it  was  with  the 
hope  of  winning  him  she  had  been  put  in  school. 
"Well,"  he  thought,  "we  will  wait  awhile  and  see. 
It  is  just  possible  Apple  has  some  intelligence. 
She  certainly  is  hao-kariy]  but  she  must  learn 
better  than  to  look  at  the  schoolboys.  Liao-pu 
telX  I  hope  none  of  the  boys  will  find  out  she  is 
my  wife." 

How  Ping-Kua  did  enjoy  school  life, —  once 
the  stage  of  gasping  astonishment  was  past. 
Friends,  girl  friends!  For  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  knew  what  it  was  to  have  free  compan- 
ionship with  girls  of  her  own  age.  Then  the 
music  was  such  a  joy.  Apple  had  never  sung 
before,  and  to  her  delight  it  was  soon  discovered 
that  she  had  an  unusual  talent  for  music  and  a 
beautiful  voice.  One  of  the  American  ladies, 
who  was  a  musician,  took  Ping-Kua  in  hand  at 
once,  setting  her  to  practising  on  the  organ  and  to 

*Pronounced  lee,  meaning  etiquette. 
fHow-kan.,  i.  e.»  good  to  look  at. 
tLee-ou-boo-d  u. 

42 


reading  music.  Every  minute  not  required  for 
other  duties,  the  ardent  music  student  spent 
driUing  away  at  the  organ.  Her  progress  was 
marvelous,  both  in  vocal  and  instrumental  music, 
and  her  beaming  face  as  she  sang  was  good  to 
behold. 

Long  before  Apple  could  recognize  the  char- 
acters representing  them,  she  had  committed  to 
memory  the  words  and  music  of  most  of  the  hymns 
used  in  school  and  worship.  The  book  lessons 
were  also  a  delight.  With  them  Apple  was  as 
quick  as  with  music,  and  soon  left  her  class  far 
behind. 

Time  flies  when  one  is  busy  and  happy. 
Nearly  a  year  had  gone  when  one  day,  hearing  a 
classmate  remark,  "Vacation  will  soon  be  here," 
a  deadly  fear  seized  Ping-Kua.  Perhaps  they 
would  not  allow  her  to  return  to  school.  She 
knew  it  would  depend  upon  Lung-Chu.  What 
would  he  say? 

The  same  question  had  risen  in  the  foreign 
teacher's  mind.  She  did  not  want  to  lose  her 
bright  pupil,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  girl,  who  had 
blossomed  out  so  wonderfully  in  the  genial  atmos- 
phere of  school  life,  she  hoped  the  husband  would 
continue  to  be  indifferent. 

So  far  Lung-Chu  had  ignored  his  wife.  He 
might  have  called  upon  her  Saturdays,  as  the 
other  boys  called  upon  their  sisters,  but  he  had 
never  done  so. 


43 


When  vacation  came,  it  was  with  many  mis- 
givings that  Ping-Kua  rode  away  on  the  wheel- 
barrow sent  for  her,  and  that  her  teacher  saw  her 
go.  What  would  be  the  outcome?  Again  in- 
dignation burned  in  the  heart  of  the  rejected  wife. 
Lung-Chu  could  return  to  school  at  his  own  sweet 
will,  without  reference  to  her,  but  one  word  from 
him  would  put  an  end  to  her  happy  school  life. 


44 


CHAPTER  VII 

When  school  opened  the  following  year,  to 
the  joy  of  teachers  and  pupils,  Ping-Kua  was  in 
her  place. 

What  a  wonderful  year  of  enjoyment  and  de- 
velopment that  was  to  her!  With  the  same  en- 
thusiasm with  which  in  childhood  she  had  fol- 
lowed camel  trains,  Apple  now  threw  her  whole 
soul  into  school  life.  None  could  run  faster, 
swing  the  dumb-bells  better,  or  recite  lessons  equal 
to  Ping-Kua. 

Great  Peace  City  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  sacred 
mountain,  Tai,  and  one  lovely  spring  day  the 
foreign  teacher  took  the  school  part  way  up 
the  mountain  and  turned  them  loose.  When 
she  gave  the  signal  to  scatter,  with  one  accord  the 
girls  broke  into  a  shout  that  echoed  and  re- 
echoed among  the  crags,  and  ran  till  out  of  breath. 
Wild  with  the  pure  joy  of  freedom,  up  the  trail, 
over  the  boulders, —  wherever  a  flower  was  to  be 
found — down  the  steep  banks  to  the  brook 
that  made  pools  and  eddies  in  its  mad  race 
to  the  plain,  went  the  girls,  with  Ping-Kua  as 
leader!  Ah,  it  was  worth  while  having  her  feet 
unbound  to  be  able  to  scramble  like  that! 

Weary  at  last,  and  laden  with  flowers,  mosses, 


45 


pebbles,  snail  shells,  and  even  little  fishes  that 
they  had  caught  in  the  brook,  the  school  formed 
into  line  and,  singing  the  Christian  songs,  marched 
home;  while  the  bomid-footed  girls  by  the  way 
paused  in  their  grinding  at  the  mill  to  look  en- 
viously after  them. 

For  the  third  time,  at  the  opening  of  the  girls' 
school,  Ping-Kua  Wu  (or  Wu  Ping-Kua,  as  is  the 
Chinese  custom  of  putting  the  surname  first)  was 
among  the  pupils.  This  time  it  w^as  no  forlorn, 
friendless  child  who  sprang  from  the  wheel- 
barrow at  the  mission  gate  and  ran  joyously  into 
the  school  court.  It  was  a  self-reliant  young  lady, 
who  was  enthusiastically  welcomed  by  everyone, 
—  especially  by  the  younger  pupils,  with  whom 
she  was  a  great  favorite. 

School  life  went  on  as  usual  till  Christmas 
time,  approaching,  sent  a  thrill  of  excitement 
tingling  along  the  nerves  of  old  and  young. 
Mysterious  boxes  from  that  fairyland,  Ta-Mei- 
Kua*  (America)  had  come  for  the  missionaries. 
A  whisper  of  something  that  was  to  take  place 
in  the  church  had  filtered  through  from  the 
minister's  family,  whose  girls  were  pupils,  and  a 
general  spirit  of  expectancy  and  secrecy  pervaded 
the  school  for  weeks  before  active  preparations 
began. 

When  Christmas  eve  arrived,  all  the  schools 
of  the  mission,  all  the  Christians  of  the  place, 
*Pronounced  Dd-May-Gua. 


46 


all  the  servants  employed  by  the  mission,  the 
Sunday  School  scholars,  and  the  patients  from 
the  hospital,  poured  into  the  church,  filling  it  to 
overflowing.  The  church  had  been  decorated 
by  the  schoolboys  with  large  gold  Chinese  char- 
acters representing  "peace,"  **love,"  "joy," 
"grace,"  and  with  evergreens  given  them  by  a 
rich  man  from  his  burial  grove.  The  pulpit  and 
altar  seemed  a  bower  of  potted  plants  and  ever- 
greens, while  an  illuminated  star  hung  from  the 
ceiling  over  the  pulpit.  At  one  side  there  was  a 
pyramid  made  of  four  ladders,  set  far  apart  at  the 
bottom  and  coming  together  at  the  top,  on  which 
were  hung  the  presents  that  had  come  in  those 
mysterious  boxes  from  America.  The  church 
was  ablaze  with  lights  and  full  of  people  ablaze 
with  oriental  garments  of  many  colors. 

The  first  part  of  the  program,  consisting  of 
several  Christmas  songs — one  sung  by  the  school- 
boys in  English  —  and  recitations  by  the  smaller 
boys  and  girls,  had  been  rendered  when  the 
leader  said,  "We  will  now  listen  to  a  solo  by  Wu 
Ping-Kua."  There  was  a  hush  all  over  the 
house.  Eyes  were  furtively  turned  Ufjon  Lung- 
Chu.  Ping-Kua,  dressed  elegantly,  her  naturally 
beautiful  face  radiating  a  higher  beauty  that 
comes  only  with  soul  growth,  went  gracefully 
upon  the  platform  and,  forgetting  the  audience 
in  the  rapture  of  pouring  forth  the  joy  of  life  in 
song,  she  filled  the  church  with  the  sweetest  of 


47 


music,  flinging  out  her  soul  in  the  old  triumphant, 
"Joy  to  the  world,  the  Lord  has  come." 

The  audience  seemed  to  hold  its  breath  while 
she  sang,  and  when  she  had  finished  and  was  retir- 
ing, a  sigh  passed  through  the  congregation. 

If  Ping-Kua's  singing  so  affected  the  audience, 
what  of  Lung-Chu? 

Although  he  had  ignored  his  wife's  existence 
both  at  home  and  at  school  all  those  months, 
ever  since  that  Sabbath  morning  when  her  great 
sorrowful  eyes  looked  into  his  as  he  marched  up 
the  church  aisle,  those  eyes  had  haunted  him 
night  and  day.  From  them  there  was  no  escape. 
Furtively  he  had  watched  Ping-Kua's  develop- 
ment. With  secret  pride  he  heard  of  her  wonder- 
ful advancement  at  school,  and  now  as  she  sang, 
there  was  something  in  her  voice  besides  melody 
which  went  straight  to  his  heart.  There  was  a 
light  in  Ping-Kua's  face  which  held  her  husband 
even  against  his  will,  and  though  outwardly  he 
might  have  been  one  of  the  idols  in  the  great 
yellow-roofed  temple  opposite,  inside  the  city  wall, 
so  motionless  he  sat,  so  expressionless  was  his 
face,  in  his  soul  a  miracle  was  being  wrought. 
It  came  to  Lung-Chu  like  a  revelation  that,  com- 
paring the  time  they  had  spent  in  study,  Ping-Kua 
had  far  outstripped  him  in  scholarship,  proud 
as  he  had  been  of  his  record;  that  it  had  been 
unjust  and  cruel  in  him  to  think  her  stupid  when 
she  had  had  no  opportunity  to  learn;    that  she 


48 


had  a  right  to  his  respect  for  her  individuaUty 
and  his  admiration  for  her  mental  and  spiritual 
quahties.  The  old  Confucian  idea  of  woman, 
which  he  had  held,  died  at  that  moment,  and 
love  —  the  real  love  of  man  for  his  companion, 
woman, —  welled  up  in  his  heart  for  his  beautiful 
wife,  and  filled  his  being  with  a  great  content  and 
such  joy  as  he  had  never  known. 


49 


CHAPTER  VIII 

At  the  close  of  Ping-Kua's  third  year  in 
school,  Lung-Chu  graduated.  He  had  been  the 
leader  of  his  class  for  several  years,  and  when 
the  final  examination  report  was  given  he  stood 
the  highest  of  all. 

According  to  Chinese  custom,  the  names  of 
graduates  were  posted  on  the  outside  wall  of  the 
mission  compound,  where  all  passers  by  could 
see  them.  The  name  of  the  one  passing  the  high- 
est had  a  red  circle  drawn  around  it. 

"Ping-Kua!  Ping-Kua!"  called  one  of  the 
girls,  running  into  the  court  the  next  day  after 
the  examinations.  "The  vermilion  pencil  has 
passed  around  Lung-Chu's  name  on  the  wall. 
The  hsien  sheng  told  me.  Good!  Good!  Are 
you  not  glad?" 

Yes,  both  proud  and  glad  was  Apple,  but  — 
"What  does  he  think  of  me.^^  Did  he  like  my 
singing.^  Will  he  accept  me  now.^^"  were  the 
anxious  questions  deep  in  her  heart.  Oh,  if  he  only 
would  love  her,  and  treat  her  as  the  American 
pastor  treated  his  wife,  how  happy  she  would  be ! 

As  school  drew  to  a  close  and  all  was  prepara- 
tion for  departure,  poor  Apple's  heart  hung  like 
a  ball  of  lead  in  her  breast.     As  her  husband  had 


50 


graduated,  she  would  not  be  allowed  to  return. 
This  was  the  last  of  school  for  her.  No  more 
lessons,  music,  friends,  and  good  times;  and  in 
their  place  —  what.?     Perhaps  divorce,  after  all. 

The  evening  before  home-going,  Ping-Kua 
was  in  her  room  "crying  her  eyes  out,*'  when 
the  American  teacher  came  to  her  and  said,  with 
a  ring  of  joy  in  her  voice,  "Dry  your  eyes,  little 
girl,  I  have  good  news  for  you.  Lung-Chu  is  in 
my  room  waiting  to  see  you,  and  from  the  tone 
of  voice  in  which  he  said,  *My  wife,'  I  think  your 
troubles  are  at  an  end." 

The  next  morning,  amid  the  good  wishes  and 
good-byes  of  companions  and  teachers,  Lung-Chu 
took  his  place  on  one  side  of  the  wheelbarrow 
that  was  to  carry  him  home,  while  a  radiant 
Ping-Kua  took  her  place  on  the  other  side;  and 
it  was  not  necessary  to  inquire  what  had  passed 
between  them  the  evening  before,  to  know  that 
they  were  now  united  by  a  bond  vastly  different 
from' the  old  God  of  Matrimony's  red  silk  string. 


It  was  one  year  and  a  half  later,  when  at  night- 
fall the  weary  mission  doctor,  who  had  traveled  by 
wheelbarrow  since  daybreak,  turned  into  the 
court  of  the  native  pastor  at  Ning-Yang.  Her 
one  thought  was  to  have  something  to  eat  and 
get  into  bed,  for  there  would  be  many  patients  on 


51 


the  morrow.  An  hour  had  not  passed  when  three 
sedan  chairs  were  set  down  at  the  door.  From  the 
first  a  servant  assisted  an  elderly  lady  to  alight; 
from  the  second  stepped  a  very  young  lady; 
while  from  the  third  came  a  servant  carrying  a 
baby.  The  ladies  and  baby  were  richly  dressed 
in  exquisite  silk  garments  of  blended  colors. 

When  the  doctor's  assistant  announced  callers, 
the  doctor  went  to  the  door  and  was  about  to 
receive  them  in  the  usual  ceremonious  way,  when 
the  young  woman  ran  forward  and,  grasping  her 
hands,  exclaimed,  "  Tax  fu!"^  Don't  you  recog- 
nize me?  Joyous  is  the  day  upon  which  I  again 
see  your  face."  It  was  Ping-Kua.  The  doctor's 
weariness  vanished,  and  with  joy  known  only  to 
those  who  have  helped  others  to  a  higher  plane 
of  life  and  so  to  happiness,  she  welcomed  her 
guests  and  sat  late  listening  to  Ping-Kua's  story. 
"Tell  my  teachers,  when  you  return,  that  I  shall 
never  forget  them,"  Ping-Kua  said,  when  she  had 
talked  till  out  of  breath.  "All  my  happiness  I 
owe  to  them.  I  am  so  happy,  Tai-fu,  My  hus- 
band loves  me  and  treats  me  as  the  foreign  shep- 
herds-of-the-flock  treat  their  wives.  You  re- 
member how  I  loved  music?  My  husband 
bought  me  an  organ  and  I  play  while  we  sing 
together  the  songs  we  learned  at  school.  And 
this  is  my  little  son,  Tai-fu,  We  are  all  so  happy 
over  him.  Come,  precious,  and  let  our  American 
*Pronounced  Die-foo. 


62 


friend  see  how  sweet  you  are."  Herself,  the 
beautiful  picture  which  will  some  day  be  painted 
of  the  New  Oriental  Woman,  with  her  beaming 
face  against  its  velvet  cheek,  she  carried  the  baby 
across  the  room  and  put  it  in  the  doctor's  out- 
stretched arms,  saying,  "The  name  of  my  precious 
has  been  placed  on  the  family  record,  and  grand- 
father says  he  is  now  ready  to  die,  since  his  eyes 
have  seen  the  twenty-first  generation." 


53 


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